Life's Path
The path begins upon Time's sands, e'er shifting from the merest act. A mystery, though finely planned, trod from unknown to firmest fact.
With every step, there grows behind; a stone, a boulder, hill or mount of life and history defined by footsteps we no longer count.
For unlike oceans constant waves which grind the huge to tiny grains, our past grows larger till our graves. Small hills or mounts are what remains
to mark that passage through our days. Perhaps a guide, or hindrance; a darkened stone which blocks the ways. The shame would be, we gave no chance
to those who follow us through life. They tred that path of sand, unsure, to unclear futures, joy or strife. I plead, "Leave mounts which shall endure."
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